


The Bed Where You Lie

by Lookafterlou1234



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, the army AU that nobody asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 05:23:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4552242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lookafterlou1234/pseuds/Lookafterlou1234
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall is a model who sometimes can't see straight from cameras flashing, Zayn is his soldier boyfriend that always helps him find his way. </p>
<p>Except Zayn always has to go, and Niall always has to wait, and they both get lost without each other. </p>
<p>Six months apart is six months too long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bed Where You Lie

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song "When You're Gone" by Avril Lavinge. 
> 
> Don't hate me for this.

_Beep beep beep beep beep beep._

Niall blinks awake to the incessant sound of his alarm, ringing in his ear. He stirs himself slowly, tugging the duvet further up his body. Rolling over on his side, he shoves his face into his pillow, wanting to go back to sleep. Reaching over to the other side of the bed, Niall paws at the mattress, searching for the boy that's always meant to fall asleep beside him.   
"Zayn," he mumbles groggily. "Zaynie, turn off the alarm, please?" 

Niall's hand feels nobody laying on the bed beside him, and the sheets are stone cold. His heart feeling like lead, Niall's eyes fly open, staring at the empty space beside him. Zayn's side is neatly made, as always, the corners of the sheets turned down and the pillow fluffed up. A solider's bed. And with that thought, Niall remembers everything that's meant to happen today. And he knows how much it's going to hurt, like it has every single time before. 

You're not gone yet. Niall thinks in disbelief. You wouldn't leave me without saying goodbye. You couldn't. 

"Zayn?" Niall calls, more urgently this time, sitting up and sliding out of bed, the chilly floorboards leeching the warmth from his feet. He stands up and reaches over to switch the alarm off himself. Wrapping his arms around his stomach, he pads forward, head bowed. He knows he's worrying unnecessarily, knows that Zayn hasn't left yet, knows he would never do that to him, but- but whenever Zayn is home, Niall likes to know where he is or what he's doing. He overcompensates for all the times he doesn't know those things, when he can't know them. 

Niall walks out of their bedroom, shivering. He's always hated winter, hated the cold and the snow and the death of everything. But now he has even more cause to hate the season. Winter always takes Zayn away from him, leaving Niall colder than ever before. 

(Zayn has often described Niall as his sunshine, but when he's gone, Niall disagrees.) 

He grabs Zayn's jacket from where it's hanging on the bedpost and wraps it around his body, engulfing himself in the warmth of it. It smells like his boyfriend, like smoke and paint and coffee, so Niall presses his nose against the fabric, inhaling the comforting scent. Continuing out of the bedroom, he walks into the living room of their shoebox of a flat.   
"Zayn?" he calls one more time, hearing the desperation in his voice. "Where are ya?"   
"M'in here." Zayn calls from the kitchen, popping his dark head out from behind the door. He smiles widely at the sight of Niall, all bed head and rumpled pajamas. "I wanted to make you breakfast in bed, but I wasn't quick enough, I see." 

Niall blinks up at his boyfriend, trying to smile at him but not managing it. Because on a normal Saturday morning, Zayn would be in bed way later than Niall, clinging to him and making him stay lying there. On a normal Saturday, they'd both stay in bed cuddling (or other activities) until noon, when Niall would rise and make them two bagels, usually burnt and smothered in too much jam. But today isn't a normal Saturday, and Zayn's cooking eggs in the kitchen to make Niall smile, and he cannot handle it.   
"C'mere, babe." Zayn says softly and Niall vaults forward, tumbling into Zayn's open arms and burying his head into the crook of Zayn's neck. They cling to each other, Zayn swaying them slightly from side to side. He presses light kisses to Niall's hair and cheeks, rubbing the palms of his hands up and down the knobs of Niall's spine.   
"Zayn." Niall breathes against his neck, his voice strangled. "I- I-"   
"Shh." Zayn croons soothingly. "Don't think about it yet. We've still got a few more hours together, yeah? Let's not be sad during them, okay?" 

Niall shudders out a breath, gasping back some air. He pauses, but then nods, his fingers clinging to the waistband of Zayn's sweatpants, wanting him to keep wearing them for as long as possible. Niall doesn't want to see him in uniform yet. Zayn looks down at him gently, his brown eyes warm and loving. Chucking Niall under the chin, he cradles his face by the cheeks and leans down, pressing their mouths together, shortly but sweetly.   
"Let's go eat, babe." he whispers. "I've made your favourite." 

As Niall walks into the kitchen, he almost bursts into tears on the spot, because Zayn is just trying so hard to make him happy this morning. The table is laid neatly, a red and white checkered table cloth on top of it. Two plates of eggs, toast, and sausages are set on opposite ends of the table. A vase is in between them, containing a single sunflower. It looks like two kids trying to play Happy Families. And even though they are a family, a tiny, loving family of two, Niall is not happy today. 

"For you, my sunshine." Ziall says as he pulls out Niall's chair for him. Niall sinks down into it, his legs weak. He feels his hands tremble, so he curls them into fists as Zayn walks over to the other side of the table and takes his place. They eat in silence, holding hands across the circular table, Zayn squeezing Niall's shaking one every so often. Niall only picks at his food: he doesn't have much of an appetite. 

(He thinks Zayn understands though. Zayn always understands.) 

"So, obviously, Liam and Harry are coming to see Louis and me off then?" Zayn asked conversationally as he takes a bite of toast, right on the buttered part. He always avoids the crusts. "And they'll take you home and stuff?"   
Niall nods, pushing his eggs around his plate with his fork. He knows he's being moody, and that he shouldn't be. This is the last morning he'd have with Zayn for the next six months, and he should be enjoying it. But he can't, he just can't, because this morning is only important because- because Zayn might not come back. 

There's always that risk, isn't there? If Zayn was flying to America on a business trip for six months, sure, Niall would be upset about it, he'd miss him, but he wouldn't be totally terrified that he'd never see him again. If Zayn was going to a mission in India for six months, Niall wouldn't have this fear that he'd never return. But Zayn is going to Iraq for the next six months, and Niall is frozen with fear, clutched in its icy grip, being held so tight that he can't breathe. 

(He once learned in school that a side effect of hypothermia is loss of breath, and it took falling in love with Zayn for him to understand.) 

"Yeah, Liam and Harry are coming back here with me. So, no empty house or anything." Niall responds. "I won't go on a bender this time, I promise." 

Zayn laughs at that, and even Niall musters up a weak smile. It's become a running joke between them, ever since the first time Zayn had to go away, three years ago. They'd only been dating two months then, and he'd been sent away on a three-week, peaceful patrol in Syria. But back then, Niall hadn't known how to cope with it. He couldn't handle all the anxiety, and Zayn had only been gone two hours. So he'd gone to the local bar and gotten himself totally hammered as a coping mechanism, crying in a bottle and unable to stop himself from trembling. He still remembers the hangover the next day. 

He laughs at himself now, at how foolish he was. He'd drunk himself into a stupor because Zayn was gone for fourteen days. Only fourteen, in which he was perfectly safe, there was nobody trying to kill him, no bullets were whizzing over his head. Niall would honestly give anything to have those days back, because as terrifying as they had seemed at the time, they were nothing compared to how Niall felt now. 

He knows he's not the only one going through this today. There are thousands of other men in Zayn's division, and therefore, thousands of other families saying goodbye: Wives to their husbands, children to their fathers, loved ones to their loved ones. And Niall knows it hurts them just as much as saying goodbye to Zayn hurts him, but sometimes, he can't really believe that it does. Not many people live a life like his, not many people depend on their partner as much as Niall depends on his, and that's why he can't imagine anyone missing their solider as much as he misses his. 

Since the first time Zayn went away, Niall has learned to cope in different ways. He bottles everything up, puts on a smile for everyone to see. He sleeps wearing Zayn's sweaters and holding a pillow to his chest, pretending that it's his boy. He writes Zayn letters and he lives for the one call a week permitted to them. Monday evenings never come fast enough for Niall. He sees their friends as often as he can, he goes to work, and he tries to forget that his heart is a world away. 

(Zayn is still chuckling. Staring at the ketchup bottle on the kitchen table, Niall blinks away the tears in his eyes and swallows past the lump in his throat. When is he gonna hear Zayn laugh again?) 

"Want more coffee, babe?" Zayn asks, standing up and heading towards the coffe pot. Niall shakes his head no, stabbing another piece of sausage with his fork and bringing it to his mouth. But everything he eats tastes like sawdust: dry and tasteless in his mouth. 

 

Watching him put on the uniform is the worst. 

Niall sits on the mattress of their bed, watching Zayn walk around the room, gathering his last bits and pieces to put into his carry-on. This part always hurts, seeing the trivial, day to day parts of Zayn disappear. His toothbrush, his shaving foam, a little sketchbook to doodle in when he gets bored: they all got into the bag. But Niall's heart tenses as Zayn then puts the small suitcase down and then heads over to their shared chest of drawers, going to the top one where a single outfit always stays. 

Zayn takes the khaki uniform out and then walks back to the bed, laying it on top of the mattress. He then tugs his pajama top over his head, letting it fall to the ground. Niall' s eyes hungrily take in the tanned skin of his torso, his toned abdomen, the dimples in his back, before Zayn is putting the shirt on. The last thing he sees before his view is eclipsed is a lovebite, given to Zayn by himself the previous night. 

(It was a purple and blue bruise, right over his heart, because Niall had needed to reassure himself that it was beating and that it wouldn't stop.) 

Zayn lets his checkered pajama bottoms drop to the ground, kicking them away. He then steps into the camoflauge pants, pulling them up his legs and tying the drawstring at the waist. Turning to Niall, he smiles warmly, offering his boyfriend his hand to pull him up.  
"Help me with the buttons?" he asks, already knowing that Niall will agree. This is their ritual. Niall stands and gets closer to Zayn, their toes of their socked feet pressing together. Niall reaches up, gently fiddling with the buttons of Zayn's collar. He does them diligently, making sure none are crooked. His fingers brush the warm skin of Zayn's neck, and he giggles at the ticklish feeling, biting his tongue between his teeth, smiling in the way that Niall adores. Niall chuckles too, fumbling to do the button as Zayn squirms away.   
"Stop movin'!" he says with fond exasperation. "Or else we'll never get you dressed and you'll miss your flight."   
Their eyes lock suddenly, brown meeting blue, and Niall understands the implication of his words. His face crumples suddenly, and he bites his lip to fight a fresh stream of tears.   
"Maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing." he whispers brokenly. "Because then you wouldn't have to go." 

Zayn kisses him then, holding onto Niall by the lapels of his own jacket and pressing their mouths together in a sweet brush. Niall could feel his boyfriend's own tears wetting his cheeks.   
"You know I have to go." Zayn murmurs into Niall's mouth, and yes, Niall does know that. It weighs upon his soul everyday. It feels like Niall's life is spent constantly counting. Either counting the days before Zayn leaves, or counting the days until he comes back. 

(They head to the airport next, leaving Zayn's discarded clothes lying on the floor. His side of the bed is made). 

 

Liam, Harry, and Louis are waiting for them at the airport. Louis is dressed identically to Zayn, his cap cocked to the side in an attempt to be individualistic. Niall has to chuckle at his attempts to stand out as a solider. If he wanted to be seen as a person, he probably shouldn't have joined the army. And Niall knows he sounds un-patriotic, downright treasonous to some, but he just...he just can't do it today. Because Zayn is leaving, and it's the army that's taking him, and it hurts. Harry is clinging to Louis' body like some kind of octopus, his head buried into the soft brown hair of Louis' neck. If possible, he handles the goodbyes worse than Niall does. 

They'd met on that first peace mission, Louis and Zayn recognizing one another from training. Harry and Niall were kinda thrown together as friends, both of them struggling to keep their heads above water without their boyfriends. Those two weeks, they hung out all the time, doing their best to distract one another from the anxiety. Slowly, they learned to tread together. Harry keeps Niall away from bars, Niall gets Harry out of the house and not watching _Love Actually_ and crying himself to sleep very night. 

Liam is Louis' stepbrother, and they're close as can be. He supports both Harry and Niall unequivocally when Lou and Zayn are gone, being the optimistim to their pessimism. It's necessary, when both of them are so negative about their futures. It's a strange kind of family they've got going: a set of brothers, two couples, and two members that leave every few months. But it's still a family, and Niall knows it's all that gets him through these times.   
"Zayn, get ready for me to hurl my guts up this entire flight." Louis jokes as Zayn and Niall get closer, Niall insisting on wheeling Zayn's suitcase behind him. It rams into his ankles every few steps, but he barely feels the pain. "I woke up this morning with a dodgy stomach."   
"Oi, don't sit next to me then." Zayn replies, fighting a wry grin. "I don't wanna smell like your vomit."   
"Please Malik, you know you need somebody to hold your hand on these flights." 

(Niall wishes it could be him).

Harry fixes his eyes on Niall as they halt beside their friends, taking the other boy in. Niall gives him a weak smile and a shaky nod, seeing his own terror reflecting in Harry's face. His green eyes, normally bright and limpid, are drawn and tired, lined around the sides from exhaustion. He looks like Niall feels. Harry shuts his eyes again, bowing his head and pressing even closer to his boyfriend. Louis glances at Harry, tapping at his delicate wrists with his inde finger three times. Their signal to let go. 

See, being gay in the army isn't illegal, but it's not widely accepted by any stretch of the imagination. They're all waiting at the departure gate, where "actually" married people will be saying their heartfelt goodbyes. All it takes is one conservative family to complain, and then Niall and Harry mightn't be allowed back here the next time. And because none of them could bear that, couldn't handle having even five minutes less of time together, they have to be careful instead. 

Personally, Niall thinks it's bullshit. There's loved ones everywhere around them saying goodbye: crying women clinging to their husbands, little children refusing to let go of their father's legs. Everybody is too focused on their own sadness to pay any attention to other people's. But because Nial can't fuck this up, he goes with it. Quite literally, he goes with it, because he feels Zayn's hands quickly slip into his, tugging him to the left and down a hallway. 

Zayn walks quickly with Niall compliantly following him, the set of his shoulders tense. He strides down the hallway, one hand gripping Niall's fingers tightly. He pulls him behind a pillar, pressing Niall right back against the airport wall and getting into his personal space. Niall never wants him to leave it. Zayn cups Niall's cheeks with his hands, rubbing his rough thumbs over Niall's soft cheeks. He just looks at him unblinkingly, his eyes flicking over every feature, like he was trying to memorize it all over again. He leans down and presses his forehead against Niall's, shutting his eyes and breathing heavily.   
"Don't change, Niall." he breathes. "Please don't change."   
"Then don't go." Niall chokes out numbly, feeling a rush of tears burn his eyes. "I'm a different person with you, I'm a better person with you, please don't go." 

Zayn grabs him, his fingers digging into Niall's bony shoulders, kissing him forcefully. They both cry, clinging onto each other. Niall can't breathe, either from the hysteria rising in his chest or Zayn's mouth pressed against his insistently. He bows his head and cries into Zayn's chest, wetting his khaki with his tears. Zayn presses kisses into his hair and temples, the hands that gently hold Niall shaking.   
"I love you so much." Zayn whispers into Niall's hair. "So, so much. You are my sun, my moon, my home. You are the reason I go, and you are the reason I always come back."   
"Promise." Niall gasps, struggle for air. "Zayn, you need to promise me you'll come back. Just promise me, okay? Promise-" 

Niall's voice breaks and he weeps again, pressin a shaking hand to his mouth. Zayn tenderly brushes the tears away, first with his fingers and then with his lips. Over the loudspeaker, Zayn's flight is announced again, and he curses under his breath. He looks at Niall, guilt etched across his face. Niall feels misery cascade over him, hitting him like a sledgehammer, because it's tme. It's time for Zayn to go. 

Zayn slowly lets go of Niall, fixing his rumpled shirt. He rights his hat from where its gone askew on his head, and then lays a hand on the handle of his suitcase, gently uncoiling Niall's fingers from around it. Niall unwillingly releases his grip, feeling numb. Zayn glances behind him, seeing everyone heading for the gate of the plane. He looks back at Niall, leaning down and pressing their lips together one last time.   
"I promise." he whispers against Niall's cheek. "I love you."   
"I love you too." Niall says hurriedly, desperately urgent that Zayn hears it and understands. "I love you, please come back, I love you." 

Zayn gives a solemn nod, squaring his shoulders back. He raises his chin, his swollen eyes calming. He puts the handle of his bag down and then hefts it onto his shoulders, staggering a little under the weight. He touches Niall's cheek once more, his fingers impossibly tender, and then turns around. Niall follows him out of their hidden hallway, feeling his heart pound in his chest. They rejoin the other three boys, Louis and Zayn standing side by side.   
"Well." Louis says, his voice breaking as he breaks the silence. "See you all soon then." 

And then they're all crying again, the five of them melding into a group hug. Niall's head in pressed into Zayn's neck, and his left arm is thrown around Harry's shaking shoulders, and this feels right, but so, so wrong at the same time. They break apart, hearing the last call for the flight, and Louis and Zayn gave them all a last nod, wiping at their eyes. They're trying to put themselves back together, to not show emotion, to be the perfect litte soliders they've trained to be. 

(Niall can't bear it.) 

Zayn turns on his heels, bowing his head as he slowly walks away. He keeps glancing back every few steps, his eyes locking with Niall's each time. Niall is drowning in the depths of them, needing to understand what they're trying to say. He surges forward as Zayn gets further and further away, walking right up to the barrier and standing against it, the sharp edge digging into his stomach. He gets looking at his boyfriend, at the person he loves more than life itself, but can't show that love to the world. 

Zayn pauses one more time at the door of the gate, looking at Niall like he'll never get enough. And then he shuts his eyes and turns his head away, running aboard the aircraft like it'll hurt less if he goes faster. Niall feels himself start to cry again, and he mutely whispers "I love you" one more time, even though he knows Zayn didn't hear him. At least he knows it anyway. 

 

At home that evening, Niall goes upstairs to their room and finds Zayn's pajamas lying on the floor. He falls down to his knees besides them, bursting into tears as he holds the clothes to his chest. They still smell like him. 

(Niall sleeps on Zayn's side of the bed that night, the end of Day One).


End file.
